ep, between the beetling Morro and the Punta; and
through the entrance, we see the spreading harbor and the innumerable
masts. But the darkness is gathering, the sunset gun has been fired, we
can just catch the dying notes of trumpets from the fortifications, and
the Morro Lighthouse throws its gleam over the still sea. The little
lights emerge and twinkle from the city. We are too late to enter the
port, and slowly and reluctantly the ship turns her head off to seaward.
The engine breathes heavily, and throws its one arm leisurely up and
down; we rise and fall on the moonlit sea; the stars are near to us, or
we are raised nearer to them; the Southern Cross is just above the
horizon; and all night long, two streams of light lie upon the water,
one of gold from the Morro, and one of silver from the moon. It is
enchantment. Who can regret our delay, or wish to exchange this scene
for the common, close anchorage of a harbor?

II.

HAVANA: First Glimpses (I)

We are to go in at sunrise, and few, if any, are the passengers that are
not on deck at the first glow of dawn. Before us lie the novel and
exciting objects of the night before. The Steep Morro, with its tall
sentinel lighthouse, and its towers and signal staffs and teeth of guns,
is coming out into clear daylight; the red and yellow striped flag of
Spain--blood and gold--floats over it. Point after point in the city
becomes visible; the blue and white and yellow houses, with their roofs
of dull red tiles, the quaint old Cathedral towers, and the almost
endless lines of fortifications. The masts of the immense shipping rise
over the headland, the signal for leave to enter is run up, and we steer
in under full head, the morning gun thundering from the Morro, the
trumpets braying and drums beating from all the fortifications, the
Morro, the Punta, the long Cabana, the Casa Blanca and the city walls,
while the broad sun is fast rising over this magnificent spectacle.

What a world of shipping! The masts make a belt of dense forest along
the edge of the city, all the ships lying head in to the street, like
horses at their mangers; while the vessels at anchor nearly choke up the
passage ways to the deeper bays beyond. There are the red and yellow
stripes of decayed Spain; the blue, white and red--blood to the fingers'
end--of La Grande Nation; the Union crosses of the Royal Commonwealth;
the stars and stripes of the Great Republic, and a few flags of Holland
and